


As Beautiful as the Spirits

by monkeysrool75



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22486981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkeysrool75/pseuds/monkeysrool75
Summary: Dorothea knew finding her soulmate was a lost cause.  She needed some stability in life, and besides her mark was gibberish, right?
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Comments: 6
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea and decided to run with it.  
> check me out [on twitter @monkeysrool75](https://twitter.com/monkeysrool75) if you wanna

Every person is born into this world as half of a whole, tied to another by fate—a soulmate. And on every person born into this world is fate’s treasure map to find their other half—a soul mark. A soul mark will appear on a child’s body the day they are born, marking them with the first thing their soulmate will say to them.

It was the day the people of Brigid were going to meet their new heir, and everyone was celebrating—everyone except the royal family. Two words wrapped around the child’s right arm—“excuse me”—but it wasn’t in Brigidian. It was in Fódlish. Everyone on the small archipelago knew that a war was brewing between Dagda and Fódlan, and since they were allied so closely with the former, they were sure to be dragged into it. They didn’t want to worry their people by letting them see the soul mark on the princess’s body.

“What will we do about it?” the prince asked his father.

“We’ll have to hide it,” the king said. “Cover her soul mark with the symbol of the love spirit. We’re trying to save our people worry, not ruin Petra’s chances of finding love.”

፠፠፠፠፠፠፠

Dorothea flopped face-down onto the bed in the small room the Mittelfrank Opera Company had given her. Her date tonight had been another dud—another guy who only saw her as a pretty face. She groaned into the pillow and slammed her hands on the mattress. Was it really such a bad thing to want stability in life? How come all these guys were so sleazy? Really, trying _that_ hard to bed her on the first date? What had been wrong with that guy, anyway!?

A knock at the door pulled her from her inner complaints.

“May I come in?” a familiar, maternal voice called.

“Oh, Manuela!” she responded, sitting up and fixing her hair. “What an unexpected surprise! Please, come in!”

The senior songstress took a seat beside her on the bed. “So, how was the guy?” she asked in a playful tone.

Dorothea rolled her eyes. “Awful. I don’t think he even greeted me before the lust took over his eyes. These noblemen drive me insane, Manuela. I can’t stand them.”

Dorothea felt a hand rub circles into her back.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be looking for someone like that,” Manuela said. “Maybe you should be looking for your soulmate?”

A small giggle escaped the younger girl’s mouth.

“I gave up on that dream years ago…” Her eyes drifted to the floor. “I need a husband who can support me in my old age.”

“So, you’re not going to try and find the one person who will fill your life? All for what, some schmuck with money?”

“I… I guess if you were going to put a label on it…”

“Thea, haven’t you ever thought that your soulmate may be someone who can give you a future and make you happy?”

“My mark is gibberish anyway…”

“Listen,” Manuela said, her tone growing serious. “I want you to find your soulmate, and I want you to be happy. I want you to have what I can’t.” Dorothea’s puzzled glance was enough to make her elaborate. She held out her left wrist. There wasn’t anything on it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand…” Dorothea said.

“My soul mark used to be here,” Manuela said with a sigh, “I remember it vividly. It said ‘That book looks interesting’…” She smiled slightly, but tears were fighting to make their way into her eyes. “I went to the library almost every day until I was in my late twenties. No one ever greeted me that way. I never met him, and then one day the mark was gone.”

Dorothea’s eyes widened. There was only one way to lose your soul mark: losing your soulmate. Manuela’s soulmate had died before she’d ever met him.

“I’m… so sorry for your loss,” she decided to say.

“Oh, honey, I didn’t have anything to lose,” Manuela said, laughing it off. “I just want you to have what I never could.” The two sat in silence for a few moments before Manuela spoke up again. “Well, I really must be off. I just wanted to check in on my girl.”

“I appreciate it, Manuela.”

“And, Thea,” the older woman said before she left. “Please at least consider your soulmate, okay?”

Dorothea waited for the door to close before she hiked up her dress and rested her left ankle on her right knee, exposing her inner thigh. She stared at the black mark that took up most of the space from her knee to her groin.

ውሿ ዟሊቓ ፚጒ ጩ ሩቿጁ

“I can’t even read it,” she said as she laid back on her bed.

፠፠፠፠፠፠፠

Petra had been a prisoner of the Adrestian Empire for two years. It was hard at first—learning a new language would have been difficult even without all of the other pressures put on her at such a young age. She was treated well—she’d even made friends with the future empress—but she knew she was nothing more than blackmail to the people in power. She wasn’t allowed off the Emperor’s property, but that wasn’t so bad considering how big it was. When she wasn’t studying, she’d venture into the vast forest around the palace, where she’d hunt to practice the skills her father taught her and keep her Brigidian spirit alive.

Today, however, was going to be different. She’d been talking to Edelgard; they often discussed politics, preparing their minds for the future, when they’d both be in power, but also enjoyed standard girl talk now and then. Suddenly, Ferdinand came rushing in to tell the princesses about the opera he’d just seen.

“That is sounding amazing, Ferdinand,” Petra said. “I wish I could be going to see an opera one day. There is much of Fódlan’s culture I have only read about and would like to be experiencing.”

Edelgard’s face shifted into thought as the two continued talking.

“Oh, the way the lead took control of the stage was magnificent! She’s probably the greatest star Mittelfrank has had thus far! I wouldn’t be surprised if she—”

“Excuse me for a moment,” Edelgard cut in, curtailing Ferdinand’s praises. “I need to speak with my father. Hubert, come with me.”

The man in black appeared almost instantaneously at his mistress’s call. Hubert bowed, then followed the future empress out of the room. Ferdinand and Petra found themselves lost in a sea of confusion now that the two had left them behind.

Less than an hour later, Petra ran into Edelgard and Hubert in the hallway. She respectfully bowed, as she always did when she encountered the Adrestian Princess.

“Petra, I was just looking for you,” the white-haired girl said with a smile.

Petra’s eyes widened. “You have been looking for me? What is being the reason?”

“I just spoke to my father, and after some heavy persuasion, he agreed that you and I could come along with Hubert and Ferdinand to see a production at the Mittelfrank Opera Company tomorrow night. How does that sound?”

Edelgard was caught by surprise when the younger princess lunged forward and threw her arms around her.

“I have unimaginable gratitude,” Petra nearly screamed. “I am owing you much, your majesty!”

“Petra!” Edelgard said, wrapping her arms around the fuchsia-haired princess. “Please, what are friends for?”

፠፠፠፠፠፠፠

Petra was incredibly excited for the night ahead of her. The Brigid princess had dressed up in her finest clothes, as she’d been told she should for a night at the opera. Tonight would be her first time outside the palace walls since she’d arrived.

“Petra?” Ferdinand called out. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, I am being ready!” she replied, dashing out of her room. She met with the three Adrestian nobles, and together they walked to the gate, where a carriage awaited them. The smile beaming off of Petra’s face was enough to make Edelgard smile as well.

On the road to Mittelfrank, Ferdinand gushed constantly about the Opera and its main songstress. Now and then Hubert sighed, while Edelgard stared silently out the window. When they arrived, Ferdinand was the first off the coach. He held out his hand out to help Petra off; Hubert did the same for Edelgard. The two pairs walked into the building and settled into the imperial seats—high and off to the side, affording them a great view of the stage.

The house lights dimmed, the spotlights came on, and the show began. Petra was awestruck when the voice of the brunette maiden on stage reached her ears. She’d never heard anyone sing like that before, and though she couldn’t understand everything the songstress was saying, the message came across clear as day. Pain, happiness, anger—anything the songstress portrayed traveled through her voice into the princess’ heart. The opera was about a young maiden who fell in love with a dashing man, but their love wasn’t meant to be; the maiden ended up committing suicide when the man married someone else. Petra felt the tears run down her face, and when the house lights came on, she noticed that Edelgard and Ferdinand were also crying.

“That was being very beautiful,” Petra said. “Ferdinand, you were being right about the main character and her goodness.”

“You know,” Edelgard said, wiping her eyes. “If you wanted, I’m sure we could meet the cast.”

Petra’s smile shone brighter still. “You are being serious!?”

“I don’t think they’d say no to the future Empress of the Adrestian Empire,” Hubert chimed in.

፠፠፠፠፠፠፠

Dorothea sat in her dressing room after the show. Another night’s work done, and tonight’s performance had gone off without a hitch. The stage director knocked lightly on the door and popped his head inside.

“Miss Dorothea Arnault, you have some visitors who wish to congratulate you on your performance,” he said. Dorothea suppressed a groan. _Another nobleman barging in to act like he owns me,_ she thought to herself. But her jaw almost dropped when she saw who really walked into the room: the princess of the empire and her retainer.

“Dorothea was it?” Edelgard said. “Your performance tonight was lovely.”

“Th-thank you very much, your majesty,” she managed to speak, standing up and curtseying. She raised her head when she heard footsteps. Another girl had walked into her dressing room. The way she looked at Dorothea made her heart skip a beat. Her eyes—a beautiful burgundy—looked at the songstress with such pure admiration. It was something the diva hadn’t experienced before.

“Chomh hálainn leis na biotáillí…” the girl muttered.

“Excuse me?” the songstress replied.

“Oh!” she said. “I am being sorry. I did not have the intention to speak in my native tongue. It is… how are you saying… slipping out. I was wanting to tell you that you are having the most beautiful voice I have ever been hearing. It was moving me very much.”

Dorothea felt her lips curl into a smile. This girl spoke to her so genuinely.

“Thank you so much, miss… I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Petra!” the girl said with a smile. “I am being called Petra Macneary.”

“Well, miss Petra Macneary,” Dorothea said, giving a Petra a wink—her name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place where she’d heard it. “I’m glad you liked the performance.”

“I am hoping that maybe someday I can be hearing you again. However, I don’t know if that is being possible, so I thank the spirits that I was able to be hearing you sing tonight.”

“Not possible?” Dorothea asked.

“Petra is not usually allowed to leave the palace,” a fourth voice interjected. The duke’s son, Dorothea thought — he came to many of her performances. “Today was a well-fought-for exception.”

The songstress’ eyes widened in realization. The foreign language she’d spoken, her poor Fódlish, her very familiar name—and she’d come in with the Emperor’s daughter. With the new detail of her being a prisoner, it all came together.

“You’re the princess of Brigid?” she exclaimed, shock evident on her face. “Please forgive my informalities.” She curtseyed to Petra as well.

“You have my gratitude, but please do not call me princess. You are making my cheeks blush!”

“We really must be off, your majesty,” Hubert cut in. Edelgard nodded.

“Very well,” she said. “Thank you for your time, Miss Arnault.”

Petra waved to Dorothea as she left the room. When the diva was alone once more, she practically fell back into her chair.

“ _Two_ princesses.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They’re speaking Brigidian in the beginning, I just couldn’t type that out because you guys need to understand what’s going on.  
> The written language is some garbage I made up using a different alphabet (Ge'ez I believe it was called?). If you can read that alphabet sorry I literally just grabbed some cool looking symbols.  
> When Petra speaks Brigidian it’s Google Translated into Gaelic.


	2. Chapter 2

Petra had finally been given freedom from the palace—well, sort of. She’d been enrolled in the Officers’ Academy at Garreg Mach as an exchange student, and it was a welcome change of pace. After she’d settled into her new dorm, she decided to explore the campus. That was when she heard it—an unmistakably beautiful voice that could only belong to one person. The princess ran in the direction it was coming from until found the source.  
  
She was shining as bright here in the garden as she had on the stage 3 years prior. Her brunette hair blew softly in the wind that carried her voice to Petra’s ears. She truly appeared to be a gift from the spirits. When her emerald eyes opened, her voice stopped.  
  
“Petra?” she called.  
  
“Yes! I am glad you have remembered me!” she said as she ran over to Dorothea.  
  
“How could I ever forget the night I was visited by not just one, but two princesses?” she replied. The smile she gave was worth more than all the gold in Fódlan and Brigid combined.  
  
“I have not forgotten that night either! I am still wanting to thank you for giving me one of the greatest nights of my life!”  
  
“Greatest nights of your life?”  
  
“Yes… I was not being allowed to leave the palace again after that night.”  
  
“Well, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t upset you never reappeared in my dressing room.”  
  
“But now I am being enrolled in the Officers’ Academy and have been given more freedoms! And it is appearing that you have also been enrolling?”  
  
“Yes, Petra, I have.”  
  
“Then perhaps now I can be making up for making you upset in the past.”

፠፠፠፠፠፠፠

Dorothea was having trouble believing what her life had become at the Officers’ Academy. To think a commoner from the streets had wound up becoming best friends with the future Empress of the Adrestian Empire—and that the same future Empress was soulmates with their professor! Dorothea could never resist some juicy gossip now and then. But most important in her turbulent life was the budding relationship she was forming with Petra.

It had happened several nights ago. The two sat in Dorothea’s room, sharing tea as they often did. The songstress was venting to Petra about yet another failed date she’d had the previous night.

“I think if he’d spent half the time listening that he’d spent staring at my breasts, he might have been a decent conversationalist,” she said with a sigh.

“I am wondering,” Petra said after a sip of tea. “Why is it that you are wasting your time with these noblemen of sleaziness?”

“I don’t go out of my way to date sleazy men, Petra. I want to secure my future, and... my big idea is to marry money. Ever since, I've been dating different terribly well-to-do men, searching for a good one... but so far, there's been no reason for a second date.”

“Marrying money? That is not sounding like a good idea. Money would be a bad husband.”

“Pretty much.”

“I am thinking that you should not be trying to marry money,” Petra said, placing her tea down and settling next to Dorothea. “I am thinking that it would be more beneficial for you to be looking for someone who is seeing the worth in you.”

“A person like that isn’t exactly easy to find,” the diva said, sighing.

“Dorothea.” The Brigid princess’ cheeks became dusted in light crimson. “I may not be money, but I am seeing the worth in you.”

Dorothea was surprised when Petra’s lips met her own, but she found herself quickly melting into the foreign girl’s touch. For someone who spent most of her time training and hunting, she had extraordinarily soft lips—softer than any of the men she’d spent her time with. And there was something else this kiss had that she hadn’t experienced with anyone else: a spark.

However, Dorothea had been avoiding Petra since that night. She should have been happy about it; ecstatic, even. But she couldn’t be. Dorothea realized she truly loved Petra, yet it hurt her—she wasn’t Petra’s soulmate. Petra’s soulmate was probably off in Brigid waiting for her to come home. How could she be happy loving someone when she knew someone else was better for her—that someone else could love her more than she ever could? Petra didn’t seem bothered by it; perhaps soulmates didn’t carry the same significance in Brigid. Nevertheless, it ate at Dorothea’s conscience.

“Dorothea?” a voice called through the door. “I am needing to speak with you.”

_No, please, my heart isn’t ready to see you again._

“I am knowing you are in there, please let me in.”

_Please leave me alone._

“I do not wish to be apologizing through the door,” the princess stated, dejected. “But... if it is the only way to be speaking to you, then I will.”

_You have nothing to apologize for, Petra._

“I acted with impulse, and I did not think about whether my action would be causing you discomfort.”

_It didn’t make me uncomfortable; I was jovial._

“You are being my greatest friend. I do not wish to be losing your friendship because of this.”

_You’re making my heart bounce out of my chest, Petra, I love you._

Dorothea’s mind began to race. If they both cared so deeply about each other, maybe it didn’t matter that they weren’t soulmates. If Petra’s soulmate came along one day, Dorothea would let them have her, but until then, she could let herself be a little self-indulgent.

“I am hoping that you can be giving me forgiv—”

Petra’s words were cut short when Dorothea flung the door open, grabbed Petra by the shirt, and pulled her into a passionate kiss.

፠፠፠፠፠፠፠

It was the night of the ball. All of the students were enjoying themselves: Hilda had dragged a timid Marianne on to the dance floor, Sylvain had coaxed Ingrid into dancing with him, and Edelgard hadn’t left her professor’s side the whole night. And though many had asked her for a dance, Dorothea’s hand was Petra’s alone, and together the two danced the night away.

The princess and the songstress had been dating in secret for several moons now—as secretly as they could keep it, that is, for it was obvious to most outside observers that the pair were deeply in love. Dorothea felt happier with Petra than she’d ever felt before. Petra lit up her previously dark life, giving her a reason to wake up in the morning. When she was with Petra, she wasn’t worried about her future; she could live in the moment instead.

“I am thinking,” Petra whispered into Dorothea’s ear as they danced, “that the two of us should be going to a place with more seclusion.” Petra pulled her head back to see Dorothea smile and nod, and they snuck away from the dance.

Petra led Dorothea into her room, and as soon as the door to the outside world was closed their lips were together.

“Mo grá,” Petra whispered against her lover’s lips, “I am being filled with desire…”

Dorothea smiled. “What kind of desire, princess?”

“Desires which are… carnal in nature.”

“Well,” she cooed, “let’s see if we can fulfil those desires, shall we?”

Petra gently pushed Dorothea down on her bed, and they pressed their lips together. The huntress’s tongue gently slipped out of her own mouth and into the diva’s. Dorothea felt her dress slide down to her stomach, exposing her bright red frilly bra. Petra’s hands made their way up Dorothea’s back, unclasping and removing the impeding fabric. Her kisses trailed down the songstress: from her lips to her jaw, down her neck, stopping briefly at her collarbone before finally traveling down to her breasts. She took one of the soft pink nipples into her mouth, gently massaging it between her teeth. Dorothea couldn’t stop the moans from slipping out.

“Mo grá,” the Brigid princess murmured, her hands starting to slide down Dorothea’s midsection. “Is it being okay… for us to continue?”

The two had never gone below the belt, but Dorothea knew she was ready. She wanted this. She was ready to be bedded by someone she actually loved for once.

“There’s nothing I would like more, my beautiful princess.”

Petra slid herself down until she was situated between her lover’s legs. She started to slide the songstress’s dress up, but stopped when she noticed a black mark on the inside of her thigh.

“Dorothea, what is this being?”

 _Shit._ The songstress had been so distracted by Petra that she hadn’t even remembered where her soul mark was. She quickly shut her legs and pulled her dress back down.

“D-don’t look at it…” Dorothea said. She’d been doing such a good job of not thinking about soulmates, but if Petra saw her mark… she wasn’t sure what would happen. Dorothea’s heart sunk, but she decided to come clean. “It’s… it’s my soul mark.”

“Why are you not wanting me to look?” Petra said, concern and care shining through her voice.

“Because we’re not soulmates…”

“How are you knowing this?”

“You didn’t say anything to me when we first met, and my mark is complete gibberish…”

“I was not saying anything because I am not knowing what my soul mark is,” she said, pointing at the purple mark on her right arm. “My soul mark is being covered under here.”

“It’s… covered up? Why would…”

“My grandfather was saying that he would be telling me when I was being of age, but I was taken out of Brigid before that day happened.” Petra smiled. “But I never had fear. The mark covering it is the mark of the love spirit. I had knowledge that the love spirit would help guide me to be finding my soulmate. So, mo grá, may I please be seeing your soul mark?”

The songstress shyly lifted her dress and opened her legs. The way Petra’s eyes lit up when she saw the full mark made her anxious.

“Chomh hálainn leis na biotáillí…” she read. She could read it? It wasn’t just a bunch of random squiggles… could it have been in Brigidian all along? And that phrase… wasn’t that—

“The first thing you said to me…” Dorothea muttered. Tears began flowing from her eyes, and she couldn’t contain her sobs.

“D-Dorothea? Why are you crying?”

“I was sure that this was only going to be temporary,” she spoke between sobs. “That this was nothing but a sweet dream that I’d one day wake up from. I told myself that when your soulmate came for you, I’d let you go because I knew we weren’t meant to last. But now I realize how silly I’ve been. Of course we’re soulmates. It should have been obvious from the start—the way I feel about you is so much stronger than some self-indulgent fling. Oh, Petra, I love you!” She threw her arms around her soulmate, and let her tears fall onto her shoulder.

After the songstress’ emotions were finally reeled in, her curiosity got the better of her. She just had to ask: “So, what does my soul mark say in Fódlish?”

Petra’s face immediately lit up, and she averted her eyes towards the floor. “I must be prefacing,” she said, embarrassment apparent in her voice. “After I was hearing your voice for the first time, I had been struck with awe. I was thinking that your voice had the most beauty. When I saw you with closeness, I realized that it was not only your voice that had the most beauty. I lost control of my words, and I was speaking the first thing I thought.”

“And that was?”

“As beautiful as the spirits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my love - mo grá  
> don’t mind me and my virgin ass trying to write some soft smut…


End file.
